


unbelieveable

by tootsonnewts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: And in love, M/M, nobody believes any of it, otabek just wants to impress yuri, vignettes of a dumb boy being dumb, yuri just wants a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsonnewts/pseuds/tootsonnewts
Summary: There was no single point at which Yuri realized, understood, and became resigned to the fact that Otabek was an idiot. No, this process occurred slowly, after a series of small events stacked together until he could no longer ignore the painful truth.Otabek Altin is an unmitigated dumbass.





	unbelieveable

**Author's Note:**

> there's no way that otabek doesn't do dumb shit all the time.

It’s a jarring experience to learn that your best friend is a moron. It’s even worse when your best friend has the calm aura of a badass motorcycle monk that makes everyone else think you’d be the dumb one. It’s not that Otabek is unintelligent, he’s seriously not, it’s just that he does really questionable things all the time and nobody ever sees it except for Yuri. When Yuri tries to tell anyone about those things, they usually end up laughing at him. The only person who has ever even come _close_ to believing him is Katsuki, but Yuri’s fairly certain it was just a case of him being humored.

There was no single point at which Yuri realized, understood, and became resigned to the fact that Otabek was an idiot. No, this process occurred slowly, after a series of small events stacked together until he could no longer ignore the painful truth.

Otabek Altin is an unmitigated dumbass.

 

+++

 

_I. In which Otabek gains useless skills._

When their friendship was just a fledgling little thing, Yuri and Otabek mostly exchanged texts and snapchats here and there. Over time, the messages became more plentiful and expanded to include tagging each other on social media and making the occasional Skype call whenever they had the time (which was, admittedly, pretty rare). Most people never realized it, but Otabek being a private guy didn’t mean he wasn’t a chatty guy. He just needed to warm up to you.

When he _did_ warm up to you, though, Otabek was a fountain of memes, facts (both useless and useful), and constant conversation. One such conversation took place on a stormy July evening during a Skype call they had carved out time for. Yuri was running himself through some stretches on the floor, his laptop screen angled so he could see Otabek, while Otabek chattered on about a show he’d seen that explained how cars were made.

“I can hotwire them, you know,” Otabek tosses out in that tone that says he’s trying to sound casual, but he’s really not being casual.

Yuri’s head shoots up from facing his toes, “You can _what_?”

“I can hotwire cars. I can pick locks, too.”

“Where on _earth_ did you learn to do that, and why?!”

“I dunno. I thought it might come in handy one day.”

“You learned to pick locks. And hotwire cars. Because you thought it might come in handy one day,” Yuri deadpans the last bit in his best approximation of Otabek’s deep-bass vocals, because what the fuck goes through this guy’s head, he may never know, so he might as well voice his opinion on the subject.

Otabek runs his hand through his hair and blushes a little bit before he croaks out a barely-there, “I mean, yeah.”

“Prove it.”

It’s Otabek’s turn to snap his head up and look Yuri straight in the eyes, “What.”

“Fucking prove it, macho man. If you can pick a lock and hotwire a damn car, I wanna see you do it.”

“Yuri, how am I supposed to show you from my bedroom?”

“You’ll show me when I visit.”

“WHAT,” Otabek almost sounds like he’s panicking, which doesn’t make much sense, because Otabek doesn’t panic. At least, Yuri’s pretty sure he doesn’t. He’s never seen it happen.

“It’s the summer. I’m not that busy. I’m gonna visit. And **you** “-he jabs his finger up at the screen-“are gonna show me how to steal a car.”

Otabek groans and Yuri smirks as he switches over to his browser to book a flight.

One week later, Yuri and Otabek find themselves sweating to death in a junkyard owned by some family friend Otabek knows. Yuri never thought much about it before, but now he’s pretty sure that human skin is capable of melting, and that _his_ human skin is doing just that. Otabek comes to a stop in front of a beat up four-door hatchback, looks back at Yuri over his shoulder, and says, “Okay, this’ll do,” like he’s not about to recreate a goddamn heist scene from a terrible action movie just to prove he could.

Yuri watches in silence as Otabek jams a screwdriver into the door’s lock (Does that really count as picking? Yuri’s pretty sure it doesn’t.), pops the door open, and then lays down in the driver’s side footwell. He pulls a pair of pliers out of his pocket, pops the wire cover from under the steering wheel, and two minutes later, the car is coming to life. Otabek looks up at Yuri triumphantly, and even though it actually is impressive, Yuri can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him.

“Please tell me again why you learned to do this.”

Otabek fidgets around for a second, stops the car, and sighs.

“I, um, had my friends teach me.”

“Not what I asked.”

“I thought you would think it was cool?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Look, I wanted to be friends with you so bad, and you were a little punk, and I didn’t know you better, so I figured if I learned to do some cool shit you’d wanna be my friend a little more.”

Otabek looks like he’s waiting for Yuri to deck him in the face, and if this wasn’t so funny he probably would. Yuri has to work hard to smother the laugh that’s building in his chest, but he can’t quite stomp it down, so out it tumbles, a bubbling river of ridicule.

“You look like you’re waiting for me to deck you in the face, and if this wasn’t so funny, I probably would.”

“I still kind of expect you to deck me.”

“Otabek Altin, you are an idiot.”

 

+

 

_II. In which Otabek doesn’t check tags._

After the first visit, spending time together becomes a larger priority for both of them. It’s sort of strange to have a best friend that lives thousands of kilometers away from you, but such is the life of a professional athlete, Yuri assumes. After Otabek so kindly allowed Yuri to watch him humiliate himself for the sake of impressing him, Yuri figures it would only be fair to ensure the next visit is embarrassment-free, and maybe not in Almaty. This, he figures, would keep Otabek away from anything that could potentially come back to bite him in the ass.

It’s a sweet sentiment, anyway.

The next summer, they both agree that it would be really cool to go spend some time in Hasetsu with Yuuri and Viktor. Since they’ve settled down together, Viktor has gotten way less insufferable, and Yuuri has only become even more relatable than he already was, which is a thing Yuri didn’t even know could happen. The addition of an ice rink nearby doesn’t hurt, either.

The two of them decide to stay at Yu-Topia, partially because the hot springs were too tempting not to, but also because (no matter how much he cared for them) the Katsuki-Nikiforov power team really liked to power play, so to speak, and Yuri just could not handle being around for that.

It’s been a week since they’ve arrived, and Yuri is busy folding some laundry in his room when Otabek shouts for him.

“YURA. YURA, I NEED YOU.”

Otabek doesn’t shout very often, so Yuri drops the pants in his hands and takes off down the hall to his room.

“YURA GET IN HERE.”

Yuri skids to a stop in front of his door, and throws it open, huffing in a few breaths as he takes in the scene presented to him. Otabek is standing in the middle of the room with a tight black shirt looped around his neck, arms crossed up in front of him, and face fully covered. The thing is barely past his elbows, and Yuri takes a second to revel in the occasion as he watches Otabek squirm around inside the fabric.

“YURA.”

“Shut up, chucklefuck, I’m right here.”

“Oh god, please. Please help me. I think this is your shirt? I wasn’t paying attention when I put it on.”

Yuri grabs the hem at his elbows and tugs the shirt off his head before throwing an amused glance his way, “You didn’t, I dunno, look at it? It’s obviously too small for you.”

“I own so many black shirts, I just didn’t think about it.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time you expanded your wardrobe.”

 

+

 

_III. In which Otabek nearly smothers himself to death._

A year later, Yuri is at the gym lifting weights when his phone rings with a Skype call. It’s the middle of his day, and everyone else he knows is training, so he thinks it must be his dedushka calling him for some reason. When he scoops his phone up from the bench, however, he’s surprised to see that it’s Otabek.

As soon as Otabek’s face sharpens out of its pixelated state, Yuri finds that he’s somewhere outside with a ton of laughter and chatter in the background. He’s wearing his leather jacket. It’s August.

“Beka, what the hell are you doing?”

Otabek shoots him a lopsided smile and says, “Yura! Look, I made some new friends.”

The phone pans around a group of men and women situated around a patio, and they all wave and shout hello before the screen focuses on Otabek’s face once more. That’s great, Yuri is happy for him, but also what is going on?

“That’s great, I’m happy for you, but also WHAT IS GOING ON.”

“Well, I played this club last night, and most of these guys were playing too, or they do play there and they just weren’t playing last night. But, they all introduced themselves to me, and they wanted to hang out. They told me about this outdoor bar, so here we are.”

“That’s wonderful and everything, Beka, but you’re outside right now.”

“Yes, Yura, that is the concept of an outdoor bar.”

Yuri hasn’t pointed it out yet, but Otabek doesn’t look good. Okay, Otabek always looks good in a sense that Yuri is refusing to acknowledge because he doesn’t think his spirit can handle it right now, but Otabek doesn’t look _good_. He looks pretty clammy, he’s pouring sweat, and his hair seems to be dripping like he just stepped out of a shower.

“Yeah, dickwad, I know, but you’re outside right now in the middle of summer.”

“It would seem that I am.”

“You’re wearing your fucking jacket.”

“It’s a good jacket.”

“IT’S AUGUST. YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.”

“Please, Yura,” Otabek pulls the camera right up next to his face and whispers, “I just need them to think I’m cool.”

“OTABEK ALTIN, I WILL NOT COME TO YOUR FUNERAL.”

 

+

 

_IV. In which Otabek hangs himself (no, not like that)._

Later that winter, they meet on the ice at the Grand Prix Final. Yuri takes gold (of course), Otabek takes silver (to Yuri’s pleasure), and Katsuki brings up the rear (hah) with bronze. While the three of them stand on the podium, it takes everything Yuri has not to launch himself into Otabek’s arms to declare how proud he is of him. At this point in their relationship, they’ve both been dancing around how they really feel about each other, but they’re also both pretty comfortable with where they’re at, so sometimes Yuri gets blindsided by things he wants to do that would most definitely pull them out of limbo, and it makes him nervous. To distract from this, he simply punches Otabek lightly in the arm and says a quick, “I’m so proud of you,” before skating away.

That evening at the banquet, after spending an exhausting amount of time shaking the hands of sponsors and journalists and fellow competitors, Yuri feels more than he sees Otabek sidle up to him while he takes a deep drink of the champagne he picked up somewhere.

“You ran off before I could tell you I’m proud of you, too.”

“I won gold. You didn’t need to tell me.”

“So self-assured.”

“I won, didn’t I?”

Otabek chuckles and swipes the glass of champagne out of Yuri’s hand, draining it before he can protest.

“I’ll take that as my consolation prize.”

“Rude.”

“Come on, I hid a few bottles in a bush out back. You look like you need a break.”

Yuri clasps his hands over his heart and faux swoons into Otabek’s chest, “Oh, my hero! Please, take me away!”

Laughing, Otabek pulls him out back to polish off the booze he swiped.

An hour later, and more tipsy than they should be, Otabek suggests that they head back to their hotel. It’s pretty late, and he really doesn’t want Yakov yelling at him about RESPONSIBILITY YURATCHKA, so he readily agrees. Only, they’re both pretty drunk, and neither of them can remember the direct path they took to get to the banquet, so it takes them a little longer to orient themselves than it should. Eventually, Yuri has to use his phone to pull up a map to help them find their way.

As they follow the little robot lady’s voice toward their destination, Otabek suddenly gasps and stops next to a chain link fence. Yuri turns his attention to the playground Otabek has suddenly fixated on and groans, because he knows that whatever is about to happen isn’t going to end well.

“Yura,” Otabek doesn’t wait for an answer before surging forward toward the fence, “Yura, come on.”

“Come where? Because I know you’re not asking me to climb that fence right now.”

Otabek turns to him with what, Yuri thinks Otabek thinks, is his most severe face (it most definitely is not; Otabek is PLASTERED, and Yuri’s pretty sure he can’t even feel what his muscles are doing in there), and nods his head firmly.

“We’re going in, Yura. It’ll be so cool! Y’know, like those TV shows where everyone hangs out at the park at night.”

“Those are TV shows, and we are not doing this.”

Otabek hikes a foot up and slots it into the fence, and honestly, it’s not fair that he still has this kind of coordination when he’s this drunk. Yuri didn’t drink nearly as much as he did, and he’s fairly certain he can’t make that climb work.

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me getting on that slide, Yura.”

But here’s the problem: Otabek only figured out the part where he went up the fence. Once he gets to the top, it becomes obvious that he has no idea how he’s getting back down. Yuri knows this because once he has his legs straddling the crossbar, Otabek casts a hopeless glance in his direction. Yuri smirks, making his decision once he takes a look two feet to the right to see the opening in the fenceline. He’s leaving Otabek to drift in the sea of his poor decisions.

Fate has a funny way of working, though, because as soon as Yuri decides to leave him to solve this one on his own, Otabek throws his leg over the fence and perches on the top, preparing to hop down. Again, Otabek is drunk. Again, Otabek makes a poor decision. He jumps, but misjudges the distance, and his suit jacket (which, in all his worldly wisdom, he forgot to remove at the beginning of this teen-movie-spirit-quest) hooks neatly over one of the pickets, dangling him two feet from the ground.

Otabek, Yuri learns, is whiny when he drinks champagne and fucks up. Yuri learns this because Otabek turns his head the five degrees of movement he’s allowed in his suit-noose and lets out a low, strained, “yuraaaaa.”

Yuri sighs, strolls through the gate with his hands in his pockets, and begins the process of removing Otabek from the fence. It takes twenty minutes.

 

+

 

_V. In which Otabek is an actual plant nymph._

Now that he’s a multi-time medalist and established figure in his sport, Yuri’s been thinking of changing up his look. He’s gotten away with the few ear piercings he’d accumulated over time, but only just. His hair’s gotten kind of out of control, since he’d been lazy and let it grow down past his shoulder blades, and lately, he’s been feeling an itch to cut it. This is not a decision he can make on his own, though. He also thinks it’s a perfect time to make the decision, because his yearly summer visit with Otabek is coming up, and he can cut it while he’s in Almaty with nobody there to stop him.

Thinking it would be most appropriate to have a second opinion, Yuri pulls out his laptop to call the man himself and get his input. The Skype call takes longer than usual to connect, and when it finally does, all he sees is Otabek’s back across his kitchen. This is…unusual. Typically, the minute their calls connect, all Yuri sees of him is his face, softly smiling at him. This arrangement is new.

Quickly, Yuri realizes that Otabek isn’t even paying attention to the laptop. He’s humming to a houseplant in his hand while he pulls out dead leaves and spritzes it with water. Thinking he must have just answered the call real quick before finishing what he was about to do, Yuri draws in a breath to say hello, but is cut off by Otabek suddenly giving the plant a very serious look before he starts speaking.

“Do you think he would like that, Gwendolyn? It’s kind of hard to tell with him.”

Otabek pauses as if the fern is actually answering him, and Yuri goes stock-still, ready to commit his latest blackmail fuel to memory.

Otabek nods his head and says, “Yes, that is a fair point. Perhaps I should keep it to myself.”

If he was more infantile, Yuri would piss himself laughing over this scene. His curiosity, however, wins out.

“Beka, what are you doing?’

Yuri swears he sees his soul leave his body as he jumps nearly a foot in the air, clutching the plant to his chest and spinning around.

“Yura,” he does his best to sound cool and collected, but they both know he’s scared shitless, “how long have you been listening?”

“Hmm, maybe you should ask Gwendolyn.”

“Oh my god,” Otabek breathes out, and Yuri stifles the urge to laugh once he sees how blanched his best friend looks. This, quite honestly, is a feat. He didn’t know Otabek _could_ go visibly pale over a shitty internet video call.

“Hey man, it’s okay. We all have our quirks. For instance, I prefer to speak to doorframes, myself.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it’s pretty funny. Why’d you even accept the call if you were so busy…communing?”

“Muscle memory? I didn’t even realize I answered. I really would have preferred you never knew about this.”

“Wait, so this is just a thing you do regularly?”

“We chat sometimes. I feel like it helps them grow better.”

“And in return, they help you solve your problems?”

“Nature is very restorative, Yura.”

“Now you’re just bullshitting me, Altin.”

 

+

 

_VI. In which Otabek forgets how much Yuri knows about cats._

A few weeks after learning his best friend is apparently some sort of nature deity, Yuri finds himself boarding the back of his motorcycle and zipping away to some ultra-secret location in the heart of Almaty. After allowing Yuri his usual day to adjust to the time difference and catch a long nap, Otabek walked into the guest room announcing that he had a great idea and they needed to go.

Cut to now, where Yuri finds himself staring up at the front entrance of an animal shelter. He shoots a curious glance over at Otabek as he finishes locking up the bike and waits while he strides over to meet him.

“Have I ever told you how abundant strays are in the city? I’ve never thought about it before, but it struck me that you might like this.”

With that, Otabek leads Yuri up the stairs and pushes the front door open, beckoning him inside. He leads them to the reception desk and makes a request to see the cat area, to which the girl behind the desk seems…unsurprised? The two are led down a short hallway, and before she lets them in, the receptionist throws a quick wink to Yuri and whispers, “Have fun!”

Yuri quickly forgets his confusion, though, because the door opens and he is greeted by the biggest collection of cats he’s ever been surrounded by. Most are in crates, but at the end of the room is a pen where there are about ten cats lounging around on pillows and toys. Before he can collect himself, Yuri lets out a tiny squeal and rushes over to the pen.

As he coos and nuzzles, Otabek walks up behind him holding another cat in his arms and Yuri’s heart trips all over its own feet at the sight.

“What do you think, Yura?”

“This is the single greatest gift you have ever given me, Otabek. You will never top this. Don’t ever try.”

Otabek laughs and opens the door of the pen so he can step inside, but before he gets a foot in, five of the cats turn their heads to him and immediately start to meow. They all rush him from different directions, bumping and rubbing his legs, feet, arms, and whatever other bits of body they can reach.

Wait a second –

“Beka, I thought you said you’d never thought about this shelter before.”

“I-I did say that.”

“Then why do these cats know you?”

“I, uh-“

“Because I know cats, Beka. These cats are comfortable with you. They mobbed you the minute they saw you. They’re pawing your entire body. There’s one on your head.”

Otabek absentmindedly reaches up to scratch the face of said cat, “I…may have stretched the truth? A little bit? When I said I never thought about it?”

“More like a lotta bit. How long have you been coming to see them?”

“A few weeks.”

“A FEW WEE-did you think I wouldn’t notice?!”

“I just wanted to do something nice for you, and I know how much you love cats, but I also forgot how much you know about cats, and I wasn’t entirely sure about this idea. So when I thought about it, I came by to ask, and they told me I should spend some time with them, but I couldn’t just _stop_ coming, because they’re my friends now, so here we are.”

“Otabek, you fucking dipshit.”

“But you like it, right?”

“I love it.”

 

+

 

_VII. In which Yuri almost launches Otabek into the sun._

Once they wrap up their kitten cuddlefest, the two decide to pick up some food on the way back to Otabek’s apartment and just chill out for the evening. Once they get back, they grab dishes and silverware, head to the couch, and chow down while they play some shitty alien movie they found on Netflix. Yuri zones out for a little bit before he suddenly remembers what he needed to ask Otabek.

“So, I’ve been thinking of cutting my hair.”

“No.”

Yuri and Otabek both whip their heads around to each other in mutual disbelief of Otabek’s reaction.

“No?”

“…No.”

“Can I ask why?”

Otabek’s cheeks turn the slightest bit pink and he averts his eyes before saying, “I just. I like it long. It suits your personality.”

“My personality.”

“Yeah, it’s wild. Just like you.”

Yuri feels the winds of their careful façade shifting, and he swallows heavily before proceeding.

“I, um. I just thought it might be an interesting thing to do.”

Otabek reaches over and tucks an errant strand of blond behind Yuri’s ear, “I’ll support whatever decision you make, of course. Either way, you’ll look beautiful. I’m just biased toward the length.”

“You just like petting it,” Yuri replies, choosing to ignore the giant neon sign in his brain that just keeps flashing BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL.

“Guilty.”

Yuri’s stomach starts to churn, and it’s been a long time since he’s been truly nervous, so he can’t quite recall if this is how it feels or not, but it certainly isn’t a pleasant feeling. He looks off toward the TV without really seeing what’s on the screen as he contemplates his body’s total betrayal.

“Well, maybe I’ll keep it then. I’ll have to learn some new braids.”

“I can do that.”

Yuri snaps his eyes back to Otabek’s face, and he looks just as nervous as Yuri is thinking he feels, so that at least offers some small comfort.

Otabek continues, “Yura, look. We’ve been avoiding this for a long time, don’t you think? And I kind of…don’t want to do that anymore.”

Yuri stays quiet, partially because he’s not sure what to say yet, and partially because the churning in his gut is getting worse, and wow. Okay. This is not nerves. This is his spicy curry coming back to haunt him. Fan-fucking-tastic. All the cogs in his brain spin into overdrive while he tries to come up with the best evasive maneuver to get his ass to the toilet right now without making this even more awkward than it’s totally about to be.

“Okay. Okay. I don’t want to avoid it anymore either, but we’re gonna need to for the next, say, five minutes?”

Yuri stands up from the couch, but Otabek is always faster than he remembers and he snags Yuri’s wrist before he can go anywhere.

“Yura, I’m serious.”

“Beka, me too, but like, I really need to go handle this first.”

Otabek makes a pained face, but nods and lets go of Yuri’s wrist just in time for him to sprint to the bathroom, lock himself in, and just explode in a nuclear level meltdown on the toilet. Well. This day could definitely be going better for him. At least, he thinks, it can’t get worse.

Otabek knocks on the door.

So it _can_ get worse.

“Yura? Are you okay?”

“I mean, I’m not great, but I’m almost done, so.”

“Okay, well do you need anything?”

“Literally just a minute. Can I get a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.”

A minute passes. Yuri times it. Otabek is back.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“OTABEK. I’M FINE. Just let me…work this out?”

“Yura,” there’s a thunk outside the door, and Yuri is pretty sure that means Otabek is now sitting on the floor outside, which, great. Awesome. Just what he needs. “Yura, we really should talk about this.”

“Beka, I know, I just-“

“No, please let me just say this. I-Iloveyou. I, yeah. I love you. Kind of a lot? And I have for a long time? And I kind of hoped we could have this conversation in a better way, but it needs to be had, and I’m tired of waiting on it, so I just think it’s time we got over ourselves and went out. Y’know. Together. As a couple.”

“Otabek.”

“Yeah, Yura?”

“I’m literally shitting my brains out right now, and I’m roughly thirty seconds away from straight up murdering you and making sure nobody ever finds your body.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I should-should I go?”

“I’d like that.”

“Of course.”

“And Beka?”

“Yeah?”

“We never speak of this again.”

“Yeah.”

 

+

 

_VIII. In which Otabek’s sister almost launches Otabek into the sun._

Five months after the Great Bathroom Incident of Which They Do Not Speak, Yuri is back home spending a quiet day inside catching up on some reading. His computer rings with a Skype call from Otabek, and he hits answer without looking.

“Hey Beka, just gimme a second, I gotta finish this paragraph.”

“PRETTY YURA, CONGRATULATIONS!!!”

That voice isn’t Otabek, and that is not a compliment he would ever pay to Yuri. When Yuri looks up, he’s greeted by the bright, shining smile of Aisulu Altin, the youngest and most vibrant of the Altins, waving at the screen.

He laughs, throwing a bookmark in his book, “Hey there, Aisulu. What brings you to my laptop today?”

“Otabek told me, and I just wanted to say congratulations!”

Yuri tilts his head a little bit in confusion at the girl in front of him, “Congratulations for what? Whatever he told you, he didn’t tell me.”

“Your engagement! Duh! I can’t believe you’re even pretending not to know!”

“What.”

“Yuri, you guys are engaged, right? I’ve been excited to talk to you about it all day!”

“Uh, I-“

“Beka talked to me about it this morning!”

This catches Yuri’s attention, because why in the world would Otabek think that telling his ten-year-old sister that he wanted to propose to Yuri (after five months of dating – FIVE) was a good idea?

“Did he now? What’d he say?”

“What _didn’t_ he say, Yuri?! We had breakfast together today, you know I don’t get to have breakfast with him a lot, and when I asked about you, he told me you were doing really good, and I asked when you guys were gonna live together, and he said probably once you were married, and I got so excited and asked if you were gonna get married soon, and he turned all red like a tomato, you know like he does sometimes? Anyway, he said he thinks you might, and I asked what your ring looks like, and he told me all about it, but said he just hasn’t given it to you yet but it’s gonna look real nice when you can finally put it on!”

Yuri forgot how much kids talk when they really get going, and as he watches her gasp for breath, he has to take a second to really consider how he’s going to address this, because the last thing he needs is to upset Otabek’s little sister.

“Aisulu, I really appreciate you wanting to talk to me about this, but I’m not marrying your brother.”

“WHAT, YURI, WHY?!”

Yuri winces at her shriek, and yeah okay, that may have been the wrong choice of words.

“Well, we’ve only been together for a little while, and he hasn’t actually asked me, so yeah.”

“Oh, is that all it is? Okay then,” her scream at Yuri must have been louder than he thought, because before she can finish her sentence, he sees a shadow pass behind her in the camera, “Yuri Plisetsky, will you marry Otabek?”

“OKAY,” Otabek swoops in, sweeping Aisulu under one arm and disappearing out of frame. Yuri hears a door slam, followed shortly by Otabek’s voice, “What the fuck. Oh god, what the fuck.”

Yuri sees his legs trudge into frame, watches his arms lift up the computer, and his heart clenches when his face comes into view, because he’s never seen Otabek look so scared. Aisulu is pounding on the door outside and yelling, “OTABEK. YOU LET ME THINK YOU WERE GETTING MARRIED. HE’S PERFECT, OTABEK. I’M GONNA KILL YOU.”

Otabek won’t look at Yuri, and he totally understands why (embarrassment doesn’t even seem to be the correct descriptor for this situation), but come on. Yuri’s seen him in way more compromising positions, and honestly, they both know they’re gonna end up hitched someday. The silence stretches on, punctuated by multiple threats of bodily harm at the hands of a very angry girl, and Yuri decides he’s done with it. Time to break this tension.

“Well, hey hubby.”

Otabek almost drops the computer.

“Wrong word choice? I dunno, it seems like Aisulu supports it.”

“Yura. I’m so sorry. We were just talking this morning, and I didn’t mean it like that yet, she just kind of took it and ran. And you know how she gets when she latches onto something, she just,” tears start welling up in Otabek’s eyes and this is not something that Yuri can stand for. Otabek should never cry for any reason whatsoever at any time, and this is so stupid holy shit.

“Beka. Hey. Calm down.”

Otabek finally looks Yuri in the face and sighs. Yuri shoots him a soft smile and drops into the voice he uses on nervous cats (he knows it isn’t fair, but whatever works, right), “I don’t hate it, you know? The idea. I get it, you guys were talking and she went nuts. I’ve seen it. So just calm down, I’m not going anywhere.”

For his efforts, he’s treated to a watery smile and a small, “okay.”

Unfortunately for the both of them, Aisulu is still raging outside the bedroom door, and gives the door a particularly hard kick as she demands to be let in.

“Do you want me to stick around for the bloodbath?”

“Please. I’m about to die, the least you can do is be my witness.”

“IT IS DONE.”

Otabek stands and unlocks the door before wandering back into frame, “Alright, sis, it’s open.”

The door opens, an inhuman screech rings throughout the room, and a tiny, furious blur launches into Otabek’s side.

“YOU LET ME PROPOSE FOR YOU, YOU IDIOT.”

Yuri snorts and disconnects the call.

 

+

 

_IX. In which Otabek is the worst kind of sap._

Five years later, when they’re actually engaged, the time comes to move in together. It’s something they’ve both been looking forward to while also dreading, because packing up two apartments is actual hell, and they both get so easily distracted by each other that it takes much longer than should be allowed. The good thing is they’re able to stick close by, because Yuri is offered an assistant coaching position at the rink, and Otabek just wrapped up a degree in physical therapy, so they don’t have to stray too far from the ice they both love so dearly.

Otabek already moved his stuff into their new place, and Yuri’s down to the last bits of his bedroom, so while he finishes with his packing, Otabek brings food by to help wrap things up. When Otabek finds him, Yuri’s sitting on the floor in the doorway of his bedroom closet going through a box of things he’s collected over the course of their relationship.

Most people assume that Otabek is the sappy one in their relationship, and while it’s true that he relishes in little expressions of his love, Yuri is just as sentimental as Otabek is syrupy sweet. Otabek loves to go all out for their anniversaries - chocolates, flowers, cards, planning the perfect date followed by the perfect night at home. Yuri likes to hold on to reminders of those gestures. So, as he goes through the box he’s accumulated, he hits upon something that gives him pause.

He pulls out a card from the box that he doesn’t remember putting in there yet. Their anniversary passed not too long ago, and the card from that is still hanging on his fridge. He goes to grab it, and returns to the bedroom, where, yes. He’s correct. It’s the same fucking card. Something jars his memory, and he digs a little bit more in the box, pulling out the one from three years ago. It’s the same. fucking. card.

“OTABEK ALTIN, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE RIGHT NOW.”

Otabek rushes in from where he was setting the food out, and Yuri thrusts the cards out in front of himself.

“EXPLAIN.”

Yuri watches as his eyes skitter over the paper, and after a pause that goes on for a beat too long, Otabek lets out a small huff, “Huh. How the hell did I do that?”

“You tell me!”

“You know I would never do that on purpose, right?!”

Otabek is panicking a little bit, and Yuri is struck with a divine bolt of lightning that tells him that his dumbass fiancé truly didn’t do this on purpose. It hits him square in the chest and knocks out a wave of laughter at the fact that yeah, he’s really gonna marry this dipshit.

“Otabek, you fucking walnut.”

Otabek shoots him a lopsided smile, and shrugs his shoulders a little bit.

 

+++

 

A couple months after moving into their new apartment, Yuuri stops by during a visit he and Viktor are making, and stops at a new display hanging up in their entryway.

“Yuri, what’s this?”

Yuri looks up from what he’s doing and breaks into a manic grin.

“Those, dear Katsudon, are the last three anniversary cards Otabek gave me.”

“…Why are they all the same? And why are they framed?”

“I TOLD YOU HE WAS A DUMBASS.”

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: it wasn't three years in a row, but i've done the card thing to my husband on accident. you try being together for ten years and remembering that stuff, man. it ain't easy.
> 
> as always, you can find me on [tumblr](https://tootsonnewts.tumblr.com) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/these_mortals)
> 
> come chat with me about beyonce and stuff. love you, bye.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unbelievable (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11945217) by [shilo1364](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364)
  * [Unbelievable (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11945217) by [shilo1364](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364)




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